The Waves

Grant rolled over and reached for her, expecting to run his fingers through her long locks of hair. His hand fell on her empty pillow and then moved down the bed searching for her warm body. “Carrie.” He whispered her name, hoping she would snuggle beside him again. Discovering she had snuck out of bed, he groaned a little and tried to clear his mind of the peaceful sleep that had enveloped him just a few hours ago. He slipped out of bed and into his green sweats, scanning the hotel room for her shadow. It was then that he noticed the cold wind penetrating the darkness. The sliding glass door that led to the balcony was wide open, the curtain pushed aside. He walked toward it, mumbling her name beneath his breath. He hated to be cold.

Grant found her standing near the railing of the small balcony, her white nightgown whipping in the wind. Animated by the ocean breeze, Carrie’s hair seemed to dance and fly from her bare shoulders. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below the hotel prevented him from listening to her. He could read Carrie like a book. He knew when she sang she was either extremely happy or extremely sad. When she moaned she was aroused, either sexually or intellectually. And when she sighed - those sighs that sounded like they started in the tips of her toes, growing into tidal waves before pouring out from her lips - he knew she was thinking things she wanted to escape. He couldn’t hear her now; couldn’t rely on her tell-tale sounds to reveal what was bothering her. So he stood at the edge of the doorway and watched her form outlined by the falling moon that peaked from behind a mountain of clouds. He watched a strap fall from her shoulders, a shiver run through her barely covered body, and a shoulder-slumping sigh accompany her arms wrapping around her small frame.

* * *

Carrie sighed and wrapped her arms around her, trying desperately to block out the thoughts running marathons in her mind. She longed to just stand there and feel the wind run over her body, stroking her exposed skin.There must be a button somewhere I can push that will turn my mind off. Just let me feel, just let me feel. The wave of sadness that drew her from Grant’s side was not ebbing in the early morning breeze as she had hoped. Scenes from the previous night’s love making insisted on flashing through her mind - his fingers wrapped in her hair, his lips on the nape of her neck, his long legs tangled with hers. She opened her eyes and stared into beautiful scene before her. She concentrated on the flashes of lightening colored spray erupting from the boulders where the waves crashed against them. The spray was a striking contrast to the steel blue color of the sky - the same steel blue color of her husband’s eyes when he was hurt.How many times have I looked into David’s pain filled eyes and tried to ease his suffering? How can I look into them now, knowing that I could cause him the greatest pain he will ever know? He must never know what I’ve done.

The thought echoed in her mind and gave birth to a torrent of new doubts and fears.I have to lie to him now. I have to pretend, to hide my true feelings - do I know how to do that? How do I explain the days when I’m walking on air and the days when I am sinking in quick sand? Who is this woman who can do that? Somehow I have to appear to be the same woman David married and at the same time discover who I have become.She shuddered, not sure if it was from the cold air raking her goosebumps or the unrelenting images that haunted her mind.

* * *

Grant stepped forward when he saw her shudder. He caught her flowing hair and laid it gently on her shoulder as he pulled her back against him. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezed her, willing her to relax in his arms. It took a few moments before he could feel the tension begin to ebb from her body. He rubbed warmth into her arms as he bent forward to lay a soft kiss on her cheek. He knew the salt he tasted was not from the ocean spray. He whispered, “Come inside.”

He held her as they walked back into the room and stood in front of the fire place. He had chosen this hotel for their weekend getaway because he knew Carrie would love the mixture of the ocean’s bone-chilling air and the burning heat of the fire place. In many ways it reflected Carrie herself. At one moment she was child-like, playfully pinching his leg beneath the dinner table. And in the next moment she was a mature, serious woman spiritedly discussing political issues. She ran hot and cold and he was lucky enough to experience both sides of her.

But now he knew she needed balance between her two extremes. He eased her onto the carpet, resting her head on his lap. He spread her hair over his legs and played with a few strands while he waited for her to tell him what her body already had. He knew by the way she curled up in a ball and held back the sighs that she was beginning to obsess about something. He decided he needed to get her to talk about it - to help her straighten things in her mind before they became too tangled. “What is it Carrie?” he whispered as he caressed her cheek. The moisture on the back of his hand chilled him.

“I was saying good-bye to some old friends.” She stuttered as she tried to speak and buried her face into his soft sweats. Grant didn’t have to ask - he knew what she was going through and was grateful that she was going through it for him. He stroked her hair and whispered silently, “Thank you.”